I'm Fine
by upwiththebirds33
Summary: Some whump and fluff because I love this ship immensely.


**A/N: pretty AU I guess? Not your standard TGS ship either. Many thanks to LeiaHestia and LlamaOnesie for their guidance and support. You guys are awesome!**

**I also took something from a "law" of sorts that I believe is unfair. If you can spot it, say so in the comments and I shall bestow upon you great numbers of virtual Goldfish. Because Goldfish. Hint: it's from Catholic Church doctrine. **

**TW: Abuse, referenced self harm**

**Prompt from a-fever-a-day on tumblr:**

"**I know it hurts, but you have to let me take a look." **

All Phillip could see was darkness. He heard heavy footsteps on the floor behind him. He didn't know who they belonged to, but he'd learned to associate that kind of footstep with pain. Rough ropes tied him to a wooden chair. Suddenly, he felt a sharp crack as something struck his ribs.

_Great. _

"Who-Who's there?" His voice was shaky. The answer was worse than the pain.

"This is for your own good, Phillip. Your mother and I believe it's well past time for you to go home."

He involuntarily flinched, knocking the chair over in his panic. He realized what a poor plan that was, as his arm was crushed beneath the combined weight of the chair and his body. _Nononononononononononono… _

He was positive his arm was fractured, if not broken. Another blow to his ribs confirmed that if they weren't broken before, they were now, and his father righted the chair.

"Why can't you just leave me alone? I'm disowned, remember?" He earned a blow to the face for his comment. He felt like his head was spinning like a top.

_Help me… _

The world went black.

—

The next thing he knew, it was morning. A few minutes after he woke up, his father came into the now slightly lighter room.

"Have you decided to be sensible and return to your family, Phillip?" Phillip shook his head. The action left him dizzier than ever, and he groaned.

"I've made my choice, _father_." As usual, the sarcasm earned him another blow—this time to his ribs. He accidentally bit his tongue and blood flooded his mouth.

"Fine, then." His father sliced the rope binding him to the chair and dragged him up, pulling on his injured arm. He screamed, and his father laughed, pulling him up again with his other arm. He stumbled to his feet, nearly falling back over. Although he'd definitely experienced worse injuries, the pain of his broken bones was nearly unbearable. This time he had at least two, and probably closer to four counting his ribs. His father practically shoved him into the carriage waiting outside and slammed the door. He felt the carriage start to move and nearly screamed again as his arm was thrown against the seat. Finally, the door opened and he was thrown onto the ground outside what seemed to be a random apartment building. Why was he here? And why was he so cold?

He realized it didn't matter as he blacked out once again.

—

W.D. had been enjoying the peace and quiet walking home from the circus when he heard a muffled cry from the side of his apartment building. Puzzled, he went to investigate—and found Phillip on the ground, silent tears streaming down his face. And—was that _blood_?

That couldn't be good.

He cautiously walked over to the other man, his footsteps crunching on the snow. However, Phillip whimpered and flinched away.

"Phillip? Phillip, it's me, it's W.D." Phillip cautiously looked up from the ground.

"W.D.?" he asked after a moment, once his brain had registered that W.D. wasn't going to hurt him. His voice cracked. "It hurts."

"Shh, I know. It's alright, Phillip." He gently picked the smaller man up bridal style and headed in the direction of his apartment. Phillip whimpered, breaking W.D.'s heart. Not that he would ever admit it.

It seemed like an eternity before they made it to the apartment. W.D. laid Phillip on the bed before beginning his search for medical supplies. Luckily, there were some in the bathroom, and he brought them to the bedroom. Just the sight of Philip curled up pitifully on the bed was enough to break his heart yet again. _No, W.D. It won't work out, so just stop. _

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and walked over to Phillip.

"Hey-Hey Phillip?" The smaller man's head tilted upwards in acknowledgment. "Can I-do you mind if I help you get cleaned up?" Phillip nodded carefully.

"You won't-you won't hurt me, right?"

"I would never hurt you, Phillip. You're safe, don't worry." He helped Phillip sit up against a stack of pillows and began the process of removing the bloody shirt from his body. _Well… this is awkward_. However, he soon realized that Phillip's injuries were much worse than he was letting on.

"I'm fine," Phillip protested. W.D. couldn't help himself and raised his eyebrows.

"Fine? I don't think so. Hold still for a sec—oh. Oh."

His torso was mottled with bruising and looked to W.D. like he had at least two broken ribs. His back was not much better—blood was everywhere, and his shirt was sticking to what W.D. presumed were rather deep cuts. _What kind of monster would do this?_

"Phillip, we're not going to be able to clean this off here. Can you walk at all?" Phillip shook his head.

"I-I'm sorry, W.D." he mumbled. "But it-it's fine. I'll be fine. Don't-Don't worry about me."

"Shh, it's okay." W.D. picked up the smaller man and brought him into the bathroom, setting him down in the bathtub. Phillip looked at him confusedly.

"But-But my pants will get wet." He was obviously pretty out of it at this point, and W.D. almost laughed.

"It's alright, you'll need to wash them anyway." He started filling a basin with hot water. _Besides, it's less awkward this way_. "This might hurt."

Phillip's eyes widened.

"I-I'll be fine, W.D., you don't have to do this." He was bluffing, scared. _Dang it, W.D.! You scared him again!_

"Phillip, I need to get that shirt off of you and clean—whatever it is that's bleeding so much. It'll be way worse if it gets infected, trust me."

"I-Alright. You're right, Phillip sighed. W.D. turned off the tap and brought the basin over to the bathtub.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Ready for… what?" Phillip was starting to acquire the terrified look again.

"I just need to clean that off. Your shirt isn't coming off and I think water might help. You ready?" Phillip sighed again and nodded. "It's gonna be okay, promise." W.D. cautiously started pouring the water over Phillip's back, and almost died when he heard the man scream. _W.D., stop it. I'm aware that—that you like him, but it's never going to work out. That's just not how society works. _By the time he was finished, Phillip was sobbing uncontrollably.

"I'm—I'm sorry Phillip." W.D. felt a tear slip down his own face. _Get it together, come on W.D._

"It's… alright. I'm f-fine," Phillip managed through his tears. W.D. offered Phillip a handkerchief, which he accepted gratefully.

"Alright, we need to get that shirt off." Phillip nodded, paler than ever. "I know it hurts, but you have to let me take a look."

"I know," Phillip whispered. He looked up at W.D. with pleading eyes.

"Do you—would it—are there any painkillers?"

"No...I'm sorry," W.D. replied.

"It's—it's okay. Can you just get it over with as fast as possible?"

"Of course." _Anything_, W.D. wanted to add. He gently began pulling the soaked fabric away. Phillip winced a few times, but overall handled it well. W.D., on the other hand, was horrified.

"What did he do to you?" he asked. His voice rose slightly, and Phillip flinched.

"This is… normal."

"Normal? That is most definitely not normal. Was this your—your father?" Phillip nodded, ashamed.

"Please don't tell anyone?"

"I won't, I promise." He put the basin into the sink and started filling it again. When it was full, he brought it back over to the bathtub and set it on the floor. He took Phillip's hand in his. Phillip looked up at him, his eyes—hopeful? W.D. decided to focus on that later. He gave Phillip's hand one final squeeze and stood up.

"Ready?" Phillip nodded and closed his eyes. W.D. could see Phillip gritting his teeth as he poured the water over the smaller man. However, he didn't cry out. W.D. didn't know which was worse—the screams or the silence. When he had finished, he helped Phillip dry off and sat him on the bathroom counter.

"I need some more bandages, I'll be right back," he said. "Just—don't move." Phillip gave a tiny smile, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll try not to."

—

When W.D. returned, Phillip had already put on dry pants and was resting against the counter. He smiled at W.D., but W.D. could tell he was in pain.

"I told you to stay put," W.D. said. Phillip nodded sheepishly.

"I'm fine. This isn't all that bad in the grand scheme of things, if I'm being hon—"

"_Not too bad_? Are you out of your mind?"

"Well, I've had worse," Phillip admitted.

"_Worse_?" W.D. was getting angrier.

"W.D., getting mad isn't gonna fix anything. Just take a deep breath and calm down." W.D. realized this was good advice and sighed.

"I know. But it's definitely not right. How long has he been doing this to you?"

"Umm… since I was thirteen… it isn't a big deal really I'm fine and you don't have to worry—"

"Not a big deal?"

"Really I'm fine W.D. please don't be mad…?"

"I'm not mad at you, Phillip. I just—never mind. Are you still bleeding?" Phillip shook his head no. "Alright. Let's figure out how to bandage that and then you need to sleep. Yes, you do, don't even start. You need sleep, Phillip."

W.D. didn't have much experience with this type of injury, but he decided to wrap bandages around Phillip's torso. As he was pulling out the bandages, however, Phillip crumpled to the floor.

"Phillip? Phillip!" He immediately picked up the other man and laid him on some towels on the bed. As he did, Phillip stirred and opened his eyes.

" 'm sorry W.D.," he mumbled. "I just… passed out. 'M fine."

"Stop saying that. You're not fine, and you're not convincing anyone. And please don't apologize. You haven't done anything wrong." He took this opportunity to make sure Phillip didn't have any other injuries he was hiding. Unfortunately, W.D.'s inspection revealed some.

"Phillip, what's that?" He pointed to a slightly swollen and bruised area on Phillip's stomach.

"Uh, nothing. I'm fi—" He was stopped by W.D.'s raised eyebrow.

"Let's reconsider our word choice, shall we?"

"It's not a big deal. Just a bruise." W.D. furrowed his eyebrows.

"Really." He gently felt the area around the bruise and stopped when Phillip involuntarily gasped and flinched away.

"Alright, I'm pretty sure your rib is broken. Hold on, I need to check all of your ribs," W.D. said. _Well this is even more awkward_. He carefully ran his hands along Phillip's torso and found two more broken ribs.

"That's three broken ribs, Phillip."

"And?" Phillip's voice was shaky.

"You're not fine."

"I—I'm sorry, W.D." He looked like a kicked puppy. "I'll be okay, really. I can go home now." He attempted to gracefully get off the bed. For about two seconds, he stood unsteadily, then collapsed in W.D.'s arms. Tears cascaded down his face as he sobbed uncontrollably. W.D. gently carried him back to the bed and set him down against some pillows. He felt very awkward sitting on the bed, but didn't want to leave Phillip. Eventually, he calmed down.

"Alright. Well, your ribs are broken and there's nothing to really do for broken ribs. Just sleep on your back, although it's gonna hurt and be careful," W.D. said. "Can I wrap up your cuts?" Phillip nodded, and W.D. began wrapping bandages around him. As he did, he noticed a spider web of tiny, thin scars on Phillip's arms.

"Phillip?" he asked. Phillip had already noticed him looking at the scars.

"It's okay, W.D.," he said. "It was a long time ago. It was how I coped, but—I don't have to anymore. Please don't worry." W.D. sighed and nodded, finishing the bandages and helping Phillip lay back against a few pillows.

"I just don't want you to get hurt," he said without thinking. Phillip looked up instantly.

"You—You care about me?" All the worry was gone from his face and his eyes widened with hope. _Does he—?_

"Well, why wouldn't I?" W.D. asked. Phillip's smile was wider than W.D. had ever seen.

"Well… no one's ever really cared. My dad thought… well, I wasn't his idea of what a good son should be. I liked writing. But he always told me—that I was a disappointment. I was a freak. I didn't belong."

"I was the same way," W.D. said quietly. "They called me a freak too." Phillip took a deep breath and reached for W.D.'s hand.

W.D. took it.

"I don't care if I'm a freak," he whispered just loud enough for Phillip to hear. "As long as you're here."

And although he knew he could be killed by protestors or those who thought they were "fundamentally wrong," he gently kissed Phillip before pulling the covers over him.

"Goodnight, Phil," W.D. whispered, placing one more kiss on Phillip's nose. "I love you."

"Love you too," Phillip mumbled, half asleep. "Stay for a bit?"

"Of course," W.D. replied, taking Phillip's hand as he lay down next to him.

—

No one ever knew.

No one would have thought that they were "normal."

Many would've called them "intrinsically disordered," quoting the popular opinion of many religious and non-religious citizens.

They would never be able to live in a society that accepted them.

But they would do their best to rewrite the stars and show the world that everyone is human.


End file.
